A Song of Time and Sandwiches

Good evening, friends and neighbors!​When my mother came to visit from the East Coast this past week, her suitcase and two smallish bags had to pass under the paranoiac scrutiny of the TSA. One went unremarked, but the other immediately drew their ire- a small, heavy cooler bag with a pair of sandwiches.

According to my mother, the TSA agent removed the deli paper-wrapped logs.
“What are these?”
“A pair of subs for my son and his wife.”
Okay…. what, they don’t have Subway in Portland?”
“It’s not the same.”
… Okay. Here you go.”

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Review of the Week #4- The Liquor Store

Where: The Liquor Store, 3341 SE Belmont Ave. Portland, OR

 

“Oh hey, Matt! You just finish? Wanna come down to the Liq for a beer?”

In this neighborhood, everyone in the industry knows everyone. Restaurant workers finish their day, they go down the to bar their buddy works at for a post-shift. After two years, I can only say I’m a “regular” at a few bars- places where they know my face, and what drink I’m about to order. It’s a good feeling, and if I’m honest I hit the bars up in a rotation just so no one feels slighted.
If you know Victor, though- you find yourself a regular EVERYWHERE.

In every restaurant, there is (or should be) “a guy.” A man of means. Possibly crazy, possibly criminal, but with a good heart who’s been known to make things “appear” from time to time. A guy who can talk his way into and out of anything- and who has been thrown out of more places than you knew existed.
Victor the barista is our “guy” at the cafe. He’s the one that just recognized me on my bike after work.

Beer o’clock, it is.

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